


Escort One Shots

by audreyslove



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-18 12:39:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11874642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/audreyslove/pseuds/audreyslove
Summary: A series of prompts in the Escort verse.  OQ AF





	1. Chapter 1

**Set in the Escort verse, future o/s**

 

_**Not flesh of my flesh, Nor bone of my bone,** _   
_**But still miraculously my own.** _   
_**Never forget for a single minute,** _   
_**You didn't grow under my heart - but in it** _

 

There's not a doubt in her mind that this is what she wants.  And she is almost certain this is what her family wants, what Roland and Henry and Robin want.

But her hands still shake as she fixes her morning coffee, and her breathing is still heavy and shaky as her heart beats so fast she doesn't even need the caffeine.

Such a large part of her life has been spent worrying about _removing_ a parent from a child's life.  She can hardly imagine a child wanting to _add_ someone to their lives, to give them all the rights and powers and responsibilities legal parents have.

She takes a few deep breaths and tries to chase her anxiety away.

She's so wrapped up in the fears spinning in her own mind that she doesn't hear him come.  She doesn't realize he's there until he hugs her from behind, and it's a blast of warmth she didn't know she needed until just that moment.  

“Good morning, beautiful.” he murmurs into her hair.

“G’Morning,” she manages, a lump in her throat preventing her from saying much else.

“Ready?” he asks gently.

“Mhm,” she says, wincing at the sound of her voice.  That wasn't too convincing, was it?

He spins her in his arms, and draws her chin up so she's looking at him.  “What's wrong, love?”

Her breath hitches, and she folds into him easily, letting him hold her tight.  “Nothing,” she breathes.

“None of that, now,” he whispers without judgment, running a hand over her hair.  “No secrets between us.  We share everything.  It's what we agreed, yeah?”

She shakes her head.  “I'm just worried about Roland,” she mumbles.  “I know he asked for this, but I can't help but worry that he may regret it, years into the future, and hate me for replacing Marian.”

“Why would he ever?  He's been calling you Mum for over a year now.  He has no memories of Marian, all he knows of her is from pictures and videos. He loves her, we both do.  But that doesn't change the fact that _you’re_ his mum.  You're the one who wakes him in the morning, helps him with his homework, cares for him when he's sick….”

“I love him.  He's my son.  I'll never be able to think of him as anything else.” Her voice cracks with emotion, and she would be embarrassed of how weak she sounds, if she was capable of being embarrassed in front of this man anymore.  “I don't want anything to hurt our relationship.”

“This is going to make it even better,” Robin insists, as he soothes his hands over her back. “Now let me get started on the waffles, yeah?” She nods and focuses on her coffee, trying to capture some of that optimism Robin always has in spades.

“HAPPY ADOPTION DAY, MOMMY!!!” Roland says as he bounds down the stairs.  He looks, well, like he's won a pet tiger.  His dimples are full on display, eyes twinkling in the morning light.

“Happy adoption day to you!  Are you excited?” she asks needlessly.  Her soon to be eight year old boy is bouncing around the kitchen like a rubber ball.

“Yes, because soon I’ll have you as my mommy _for real_ ,” he tells her.  

They didn't need to make it legal for this to be true.  But when Roland fell out of a tree a few months ago, some idiotic doctor refused to talk with her, saying he could only speak regarding Roland's chart with _immediate family_.  And Roland insisted she was his mommy, but the doctor casually waved it off, explaining that stepmothers do not count the same way mothers do.

It hurt him, damn near brought him to tears the way the doctor so flippantly said it.  And she really wants to hate that doctor forever, but without him, she wouldn't have gotten the card Roland made her a few weeks later, asking if she would be his mommy.  It's one of the greatest gifts she's ever received.  And she has some clueless ER doctor to thank for it.

“Mm, next time you break your arm I'll be able to hear all about it and tell them they can fix you however they would like,” she quips.

Roland giggles as he sits at the kitchen table, pouring himself a glass of milk.

“Hey, mom,” Henry says, his voice groggy with sleep.

“Hey, sweetie.”

Roland nearly crashes into Henry, his energy clearly a bit much for the preteen. “Henry do you know what day it is?”

Well, of course Henry does.  That's why he's up this early on his summer vacation, that's why he is going to  wear wool slacks in the summer heat, and journey back to that godforsaken courthouse — this time for something good, at least.

“Today mom's adopting you,” Henry says.  “And you know what that means?”

Roland looks puzzled.  “What?”

“It means you will officially be my brother,” Henry says plainly.  “No one can call us step brothers anymore.  We will be _real_ brothers.”

Roland smiles proudly.  “I like being your brother!”

“Me too,” Henry says, “I always wanted a little brother. I used to ask for one every Christmas.”

He did, it's true.  Never in all her life did she imagine granting him that - another child of her own.  She thought of herself too toxic and damaged to risk bringing another child into this world.  She considered it a miracle that Henry had somehow gotten by relatively unscathed.

But time has passed, and she's forgiven herself her past sins, thanks in no small part to the new men in her life that have become her family.  Robin has undying faith in her abilities.  He trusts her completely with Roland, the love of his life.  And because of that trust, adn that love, she no longer has any doubt that she's capable of loving, nurturing and providing like any other mother.

They had adoption counseling at the court’s recommendation, and each counselor who told Robin how difficult it would be to remember Regina is a true parent with rights equal to his own.  But he scoffed in their faces and told them that he has always felt that way.

And Robin has proven that at every opportunity he can, letting her have input on Roland’s bedtime, his punishments, and his rewards.  She actually feels equal as a parent, and that shocks her.  She didn't birth Roland, didn't raise him from a babe, but she has some intimate, indescribable sense of belonging to him.

“Daddy, can you pass the berries?” Roland asks.

“Oh, yeah, and Dad, pass the syrup,” Henry adds, as if it were the most casual thing in the world.

But it's not.

Because he's never called Robin _Dad_ before.

Regina freezes, unsure she even heard him right.  He's only just reunited with the Colters, only just started to learn more about his father without the threat of Leo’s wrath hanging over them.  She never anticipated that Henry would ever think of Robin as a father, not when he expressed so much interest in Daniel lately.

Robin, to his credit, recovers quickly and hands the bowl of berries and the bottle of syrup over to an oblivious Roland and a confused looking Henry.

“I…” Henry starts, “It just slipped out, I'm sorry.”

“Don't be,” Robin smiles.  “I'd love it, you know, if you wanted to call me ‘Dad’.  But I know how important Daniel and his family are to you, so that's up to you.  Whenever you are ready.”

“Oh.” Henry says, taking in a breath and pursing his lips.  “Because I've been thinking.  You know how Roland said maybe his momma sent Mom to him?”

Roland giggles.  “Momma _did._ That's why Regina looks like her.  And that's why she's such a good mommy.”

Henry clears his throat.  “Well, yeah.  And you said Marian said she wanted Roland to have someone, if she were gone?”

“Yes…” Robin says carefully.  

Regina is holding on to the countertop for dear life, bracing herself for what is to come.

“Uncle Will and Aunt Lila talk about dad a lot.  And I told them about, uh, about Roland getting adopted.  And they asked me if I wanted that too.  And I said no, at first, because I never wanted them to not be my family.  But they told me they would always be my family.  And that Daniel would love Robin.  So…”

“They told you that?” Regina whispers, her voice cracking.  “They… _really_ think that...?”

“Aunt Lila said Robin reminds her of her brother,” Henry says.  And this is hard for him, too. He's staring at a plate of untouched waffles, each word coming out slow and steady.  “I think he would be okay with me calling you Dad,” he says slowly.  “And if you _do_ want me, as a son, like Mom is doing with Roland...”

“Oh, Henry,” Robin rushes to hug him.  “I would _love_ that.  I don't think I could ask for a better brother for Roland, and a better son for me.  But only if you are _sure.”_

Tears pour down her cheeks, flowing free.  Her bottom lip tastes of blood but she doesn't dare stop biting it, because it's the only thing keeping her from crying out loud.

“I am,” Henry says.  And then he wraps his arm around Robin’s neck and presses into him.  She hears wet, stifled sobs as he says, “I want to be your real son, too.”

“Shh, Henry, it's okay.  You already are,” Robin soothes, at the same time Roland murmurs a sing-songy _Don't be sad, Henry._ “We don't need paper to prove that we are family.  We know how much we love each other.”

But Henry has been raised fully aware of the significance of _that_ paper.  His birth certificate tethered him to Leo for years.  And now he's free of that terror, so it is almost shocking that he's so willing to let a new person have that power, to give him those rights.  It's a level of trust, a level of _love_ she didn't expect.

Life keeps surprising her in the most magical of ways.

“So... if your mom is alright with this,” Robin says, looking at Regina, needlessly.  They've talked about this so many times.  Regina has wanted this for him, for _them,_ but she was adamant it must be Henry's choice — that he had to ask for it.  She wouldn't force a new father on him, not ever.  And during Roland’s entire adoption process, Henry never spoke up.

She made peace with the fact he didn't want an adoption. Truly, she had.

But it seems all that has changed, and now Robin and Henry are looking at her, waiting for an answer. She can hardly move, definitely can't speak, but she manages a weak little nod.  

“Then it's settled.” Robin’s voice is cracking, but he's holding strong for them all.  “We'll start the process today, pick up all the documents necessary at the courthouse…”

“Henry's going to be my real brother again!” Roland exclaims.  And that's when she finally loses it, a choked little sound of laughter mixed with a wet cry bubbles out of her mouth.  She struggles to keep her composure, but she can't.

Not when Henry is telling her that Daniel would be proud of her choices, or that Henry loves Robin as a father.  She never thought she'd have _this,_ what wonderful thing did she do in a past life to deserve such good fortune?

Robin closes the distance between them and holds Regina tight, kissing her forehead as the sobs she struggles to quell finally burst free.

“Mom?  Are you okay?  Did I make you sad?” Henry asks, worried.

“No, Henry, you made me so very, very happy,” she assures.  

“You made me happy, too,” Robin murmurs, “both of you.”

It's silly, she supposes, to most people.  You don't _need_ a piece of paper to tell you that you are a parent.  There's so much more to being a real mother or father than being listed on a birth certificate.  But for Regina, a birth certificate has carried special meaning.  It's been the source of misery and guilt for her for years.

And now, on this quiet sunny morning, the four of them have chosen one another, and a document that used to cause Regina so much grief will forever be the source of pride and happiness.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for OQPromptParty Prompt #11: Regina mothering Roland (it’d be awesome if Robin witnessed at least a part of the scene)
> 
> Written in the Escort verse.

He always has odd choices for how they spend their  _ time  _ together.  Or, maybe not odd, but unconventional as far as she is concerned. 

 

He had asked her to come over around 8:30, after Roland is tucked away for the night.  And then they will watch a few more episodes of Sherlock.  Nice.  Easy.

 

But Robin comes to the door looking exhausted and distracted, and that's rather unusual.  He's usually all freshly showered with a bright smile on his face and some saccharine greeting on his lips.

 

“You alright?” She asks after he welcomes her in.  Robin grimaces. 

 

“Roland has a bad cold.  Putting him down was hell, but…” he looks at the stairs and pauses, “Pretty sure he went down.  Benadryl is a wonder drug.”

 

She thinks of Henry at that age, all sick and sniffly.  She fights the instinct to fret.  She’s not here for that.  “Well I’m glad he’s asleep.  Those stubborn summer colds are miserable but not too dangerous.  You could always call me to help with him, you know.”

 

“Oh no,” Robin chuckles, “You don’t want to care for Roland when he is sick.  He's a bit dramatic when he's ill, even for a five-year-old, I'm afraid.  Like his father.”

 

Regina raises an eyebrow skeptically.  “Oh?”

 

“Marian always made fun of me for acting like every cold was typhoid fever.  Though I've gotten significantly better now.  It's not exactly easy to be a single dad and shut down the way I would like when I fall ill.  But Mulan and Ruby still tease me for being a bit needy and whiny.”

 

Ah,” Regina smirks at him playfully.  He's probably cute when he's sick, all pouty lips and dropping eyes.  He's always cute, of course, illness can't change that.

 

“I know you've probably already eaten, but do you have any interest in pizza?” he asks hopefully, “I didn't have any time to eat myself and—”

 

“I didn't actually get a chance to eat anything either,” she assures, reaching into her bag and pulling out a larabar.  “This was supposed to be my dinner.”

 

He grimaces.  “I'm ordering us a pizza then.  Veggie, like you like?”

 

“Perfect.” she sits on his couch and grabs the blanket that is folded on the arm, and spreads it over her body.  The scent of the blanket is familiar, jasmine-y with a musky undertone, and it hits her that she’s been at Robin’s so often, and used this throw so many times that it actually smells of her perfume. 

Robin’s place has felt comfortable and warm.  And now, as she snuggles into a blanket that smells of her while they eat junk food and watch television, it hits her how much this place feels like a home to her. 

 

It's a bit  _ too  _ domestic considering how things are between them, but she tries to calm those worries by promising to herself that he will never know how  _ much _ she is enjoying this.  It will only make it worse for the both of him when she has to leave.  She needs to make sure he isn't under any mistaken impression that they have any type of a future.

 

But when he sits down next to her, her body shifts against his on instinct.  He puts an arm around her, enclosing her in warmth and trust and comfort, and she just feels safe, cozy and well cared for.

 

So she lets out a content sigh as she snuggles against him, and grabs the remote to start the next episodes

 

.::.

 

They are midway through the second hour of television when he gets the call.

 

He frowns at his buzzing phone.  “Who would be calling from the police office?”

 

Her blood runs cold, and she grabs the remote to pause the show.  It's probably nothing to do with her or Leopold.  Probably just a friend in trouble, or hell, maybe it is just fundraising initiative from the county police.

 

Robin answers with a puzzled “Hello?”

 

And then there’s silence, while he listens to whoever is on the other end.

 

She shouldn’t worry.  And yet, that is all she does until the moment he speaks.  

 

“Ruby, it’s okay.  I’ll be there shortly.  Just stay put and don’t talk to anyone, alright?”

 

He ends the call and looks at Regina regretfully.  

 

“Ruby’s been detained by the police, it seems.  Peter got into some street brawl, and she was somehow involved.  They claim they can arrest her for public intoxication, but it sounds like they just want someone to pick her up.”  He fidgets, fingers strumming against one another.  “She called Mulan first, but she didn’t answer.  I am so sorry, but I’m afraid I have to go.  We’ll take a raincheck?”

 

“Of course,” Regina says, reaching for his hand and rubbing it gently.  “Just go, I’ll stay here until you get back and keep an eye on Roland.”

 

He looks shocked at her offer, and the smile on his face…. Well, it could light the sky.  “Really?  Truly?  I’ve been dreading waking him up, he was so miserable—”

 

“Please, that’s not an option.  I’m here.  It’s your time, anyway.”

 

She knows she is wrong to bring  _ that  _ up, it has him wincing and shaking his head.  

“Absolutely not, you are not a babysitter to me.  You are so much more.”  There are unspoken words, she knows, words he won’t dare to tell her, words she can practically see when he looks in her eyes.

 

That’s not what this is all about, but she’s not about to argue with him, when Ruby is waiting in a police office.

 

“Then let me  _ as your friend  _ offer to stay here to spare your sick child from being dragged down to a dirty police office,” she says sternly.  “Actually, I insist, as someone who cares an awful lot for Roland.  He doesn’t belong there.  I’d much rather him stay in his bed.”

 

He tilts his head and flashes one of those lopsided smiles, then grabs her hand and kisses it.

 

“Alright.  For Roland, then.”

 

And then he’s grabbing his keys and leaving, promising to be back as soon as he can.

 

.::.

 

Robin has been gone no more than twenty minutes when he wanders downstairs.

 

A sleepy Roland waddles down from the stairs in his footie pajamas, carrying his stuffed monkey.  

 

His eyes are squinted slits, half of his face red from rubbing against a pillow, hair wild and mussed from what appears to be a restless sleep.  

 

He looks at Regina, rubs his eye with a clammy fist…

 

And then he sobs.

 

Regina snaps into action, wrapping her arms around him and whispering soft shh-ing sounds as she rocks him steadily.

 

“Oh Roland, it’s okay.” she soothes.

 

“My throat hurts,” he sniffles, “and my nose is all runny and icky.”

 

“I know,” Regina whispers, “it’s just a cold.  Henry used to get awful colds, just like you.”

 

“He did?” Roland sniffles into her shoulder.  He rubs his nose into the soft cotton of her shit, but she doesn’t mind at all.  Whatever it takes for him to be comfortable.  “Daddy will make me take the yucky medicine again, but I don’t want to take it!  And it doesn’t even help.”

 

Regina frowns.  He doesn’t appear to have a cough, but his voice is hoarse, and he’s definitely congested.  And she shouldn’t use Roland’s love of her son to her advantage, but, well, it’s for his health.  “You know, I used to make Henry a special drink to feel better.  Peppermint tea with honey and lemon.  What if I made that for you?” Regina asks.

 

“Honey?” Roland sniffles.

 

“Mhm, and peppermint.  It tastes like a candy cane.  But I can only give it to you if you  _ also  _ take your medicine.”

 

“Like Henry?” he asks hopefully.

 

“Yes, Henry always had to take his medicine too.”

 

And then it is settled.  Roland curls up on the couch with her blanket as she makes the tea.  He’s miserable, the poor kid, sniffling and whining as she heats the water.

 

“R’gina,” he calls out to her in a pathetic, scratchy voice.  “I am  _ very  _ sick.”

 

She bites back her smile and brings the mug of lukewarm honey tea to him, setting it on the coffee table.  “I can tell,” she soothes.  ‘Do you think watching something on tv would help?”

 

“Maybe,” Roland says as he brings the tea to his lips.  He smiles at the taste licking his lips adorably.  “This tastes good!”

 

“Mmhm, Regina hands him a plastic medicine cup of benadryl.  “And this tastes good too.  Henry always loved it.”

 

Roland looks at it skeptically, but ultimately is won over.

 

He sips it, grimaces, and drinks the rest quickly, chasing it with more honey tea.

 

“There we go,” Regina whispers, rubbing his back as he swallows.  “You’ll feel better soon.”

 

Roland nods, sets down is mug and lays in her lap.

 

“Can we watch The Lion King?”

 

She laughs, starts the movie, and threads her fingers through his wild curls.  “I haven’t seen this movie in awhile.  I’m very excited”

 

“Simba is my favorite,” Roland yawns. 

 

She draws patterns down his back, up and through his hair, and he nestles into her further in a way that is so damn comfortable and warm she never wants to leave.

 

.::.

 

It takes Robin longer than he expected.  

 

Ruby is drunk, and Peter has a welt on the side of his face that is swelling by the second, and neither are too coherent.  

 

In the end, a sweet officer releases them to Robin’s custody as he promises to lecture them about drinking too much.

 

It’s worrisome, Ruby’s drinking.  And rather unusual, he supposes, for her to call her boss to come and get her.  But Ruby is like family, like a younger sister to him, and he has this paternal need to protect her and care for her.

 

So he takes her home, tucks her in, and listens to her drunken sobs about having only two drinks.

 

And then it hits him that she could very well have been drugged.  

 

He talks to her, takes all the information he can about their night, and reminds himself to file a police report tomorrow.

 

It’s late, nearly midnight by the time he gets home.  

 

The lights have been turned off, so he creeps into the living room quietly, the pale blue screen of the television his only guide.  

 

His heart is unprepared for the sight he sees.

 

Roland is laying on Regina’s lap, sprawled out on the couch, covered in a blanket.  Regina is asleep as well, curled up with a throw pillow, one arm still on the boy’s back as the other is under her cheek.

 

He loves them so.

 

He should wake her.  Any time now.  But the sight is so heart wrenchingly perfect he cannot move.

 

Thankfully, she picks that moment to wake on her own.  She stirs gently, lifting herself out of sleep with the grace of a ballerina.  How can she be so perfect, even when she sleeps?

 

She seems momentarily disoriented, but then spots him, and offers him a smile.

 

“He woke up not long after you left,” she whispers.  “We watched the lion king and sipped on honey tea, and then...  I guess I fell asleep on the job.”

 

“You’re perfect.”  

 

The words are out before he can second guess them.  It’s all he’s been thinking since the moment he saw her, he cannot help but let them break free.

 

“Not the best babysitter, I’m afraid,” she rasps, shifting underneath Roland gingerly, careful not to wake him.

 

“No,” he says quickly.  “Roland doesn’t cuddle up with babysitters like that.”

 

She tucks a hair behind her ear nervously.  “I’m glad he’s comfortable with me, because I certainly was with him.  He’s a very good napping partner.  I actually got some good sleep, perhaps we should do it again.”

 

“Stop making me jealous of my own son,” he quips, his voice still low and hushed.

 

Regina just shakes her head and tries to hide the smile that she always gives him when he flirts.

 

And then she asks Robin to help get his son to sleep without waking him.

 

As she leaves with a kiss on his cheek and a promise to call the moment she gets home, Robin can’t help but feel blessed.

  
  



End file.
